


Vitaar

by Nebulad



Series: Sataareth [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 14:16:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7687717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Any colour preference?” she asked, able to identify the case where the <i>vitaar</i> was stored right away. He really had to admit that it was nice to have a… vashoth, around. He still had trouble calling himself any variation of <i>vashoth, tal-vashoth</i> or otherwise, but they were the same species with the same immunities to stupid shit that would kill other people. She had horn balm on her dresser and an <i>antaam-saar</i> she could never remember how to tie.</p><p>“Pretty sure all I got in there is some variations of red. Blood of my enemies, right?” he asked with a grin, and she rolled her eyes and started pasting it over her palms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vitaar

“Hey _kadan?”_ he asked, knocking on the doorframe to the library where her and Vivienne were holed up studying… something. He wasn’t really an expert on how they spent their free time, but using what he knew about the two of them it could’ve been anything from magic to etiquette or how to just sit around and look prettier than everyone else.

Her head popped up from behind a book wider than he was, and she smiled. She liked _kadan—_ said so herself, kind of blissed out after sex and not concerned with embarrassing herself— and tell truth, he liked it too. It was that sweet spot where he didn’t have to say that they were hitting the _romance_ now, but could acknowledge that whatever they had was… it was a lot. Heavy and real and just the way he liked it.

“ _Cher,”_ she returned, leaning up over the book. “I thought you weren’t leaving until sundown?” He had a job to do with the Chargers, just some shit to wrap up this whole Tal-Vashoth thing. He had to see what he could salvage out of his nearby contacts, and see how fast news spread about ol’ Hissrad. It wasn’t too high risk— he was probably in more danger of feeling like shit afterwards than he was of anyone coming at him.

“We’re not, but I thought of something. If I could borrow you for a few minutes—” he looked towards Vivienne, who was simultaneously reading and floating another pile of books down from the top shelf.

“Take her,” the Enchanter said flippantly. “I’ll finally have some quiet to go over Grand Enchanter Sybil’s observations of magical races.” Tama frowned, rolling her eyes.

“Trash,” she declared, and Vivienne laughed.

“You simply don’t like her focus groups,” she scolded, although Bull didn’t think she was defending the author either. Far be it from Vivienne to take someone’s shoddy ass work with a smile.

“She only studied Qunari _saarebas!_ I’m supposed to be so impressed that she got dispensation from the Triumvirate to study their mages that I just magically forget she didn’t even _bother_ researching Vashoth?” she asked. “Not to mention the sort of offensive observations she makes on the _arvaarad—_ I’m certainly not going to pretend like I love them, but _Maker.”_

“I’m on chapter two and I would hardly call it _sort of_ offensive. She saw an ape earlier and she’s milking it for all its worth,” Vivienne remarked. “I told you, though, I need notes so when I tear it apart in the Circles, no one can argue.”

“People still argue with _you,_ ma’am?” Bull asked with a grin, and Vivienne laughed.

“Can you believe it? Some people simply enjoy being wrong. Off you go then, before she interrupts me again.” Bull took his cue and ushered Tama out of the room. He was always kind of impressed at what her and Vivienne got up to together, though he understood approximately jack shit.

“What did you need me for?” she asked, winding her arm around his as they climbed back up towards the setting sun and out of the basement. The orange-y light was a good look on her, though he figured they’d be hard pressed to find something that wasn’t.

“Started putting on some _vitaar_ and it occurred to me that all the patterns I know are Qunari. Wouldn’t want anyone thinking that I’m trying to lie to them,” he said, and she laughed a little. “Figured you were the best one to ask if Tal-Vashoth had anything… different.” It was kind of a fucked up few minutes that he just stood there with the poison on his hand, staring at himself in the mirror and wondering if he should just do what he always did or…

“It’s your choice, love. We’re big on that, you know?” she asked, and he snorted. “If you wanted to use the Qunari paint still, none of _us_ would say a word. Plenty of people keep things from the Qun. If you were concerned about looking like you were trying to fake still being an agent, then we do have our own patterns I could teach you.”

“Don’t think I’ve got the daylight left to actually _learn_ anything. But I’d appreciate the help.” He led her to his room by the bar where he’d been keeping his _vitaar_. It was best to jam it somewhere out of the way so some idiot with sticky fingers didn’t end up melting or some shit, then suddenly it was all the _oxman’s_ fault.

“Any colour preference?” she asked, able to identify the case where it was stored right away. He really had to admit that it was nice to have a… vashoth, around. He still had trouble calling himself any variation of _vashoth, tal-vashoth_ or otherwise, but they were the same species with the same immunities to stupid shit that would kill other people. She had horn balm on her dresser and an _antaam-saar_ she could never remember how to tie.

“Pretty sure all I got in there is some variations of red. Blood of my enemies, right?” he asked with a grin, and she rolled her eyes and started pasting it over her palms. He watched her real close, how her long fingers spread it expertly for someone who probably hadn’t even worn it until she was older. She didn’t even get it on the thin gold bracelets she was wearing— he was bad for that, getting the shit on _everything._ It drove Krem nuts.

She started by slapping a handprint on both his pecs, grinning. “You feelin’ me up, Tama?” he asked, trying to relax without making her hands slide.

“Benefits of the job,” she said with a shrug, then brought her palms back up and put more paint on her index and middle fingers. She drew lines up his shoulders, frowning a little. _“Vashedan,_ I’ll have to go over your shoulders again,” she muttered. He grunted curiously, trying to crane back to see before remembering not to knock her out with his horns. “Too much shoulder, not enough hand,” she explained.

“You love it,” he reminded her, trying to mentally trace the designs as she painted them. The lines were mostly straight, with little dots in between at certain places that he couldn’t quite keep track of. She sighed when she got to his belly, with that _kadan_ look on her face.

“How much time did we have?” she asked, _slowly_ making eye contact.

“Not enough for you to be lookin’ at me like that.” He was starting to regret that this hunt would take him at least as far as Redcliffe. She huffed and continued her pattern, all the way down his arms and back up to his face. She finished with a kiss, which was a hell of a lot better than the game-face he usually gave himself in the mirror.

“Be careful,” she said quietly, careful not to touch him. He could feel the power tingling against his skin and wondered if _vitaar_ was more potent if a mage did it.

“You too,” he returned, deciding not to ask. She’d nerd out on him and he’d never leave.

**Author's Note:**

> Still on this kick, anyway. [My writing blog is here](http://nebulaad.tumblr.com) and there's stuff there. Pictures and playlists and stuff. If you wandered here from an ao3 stream blog, hi. Please reblog from me and not that fucking stream blog.


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